Week of Thanks

Well it finally happened. And just like anything else that you wait and wait and wait for, it happened while I wasn't even paying attention...or even remotely prepared for.

School let out early for the girls for the holiday. It was 82 degrees out when we picked them up so when The Taz asked if we could go swimming, it sounded like a good idea. We rushed home, threw on our swimsuits and walked over to the pool.  The pool was deserted, so we checked the clubhouse door for any notices to make sure it was really open. No note. We were just the only ones who thought 82 qualified for outdoor swimming.

Right about the time we were getting the teeth chatters and feeling a little silly, a mother and her daughter walked through the gate. The Taz, having no problem  making friends, runs up to the girl asking if she wants to play. We make introductions and talk about the weather.

Nice day for November.
Yes.
Thought we were done with swimsuits.
Yes. This is new for us.
Us too.
Really?

As the conversation continued, we began to compare situational checklists:

New to town.
Us too.
Two daughters.
Us too.
No family close by.
Us either.
I love facebook.
Me too.
My husband's in the food and beverage industry.
Mine too.

Around this time, I realized that she was digging around in her purse for a pen and scratch of paper to write her phone number down. I turned away from her under the guise of monitoring the children only to hide my  stupid "yessssssssssssssss" face.  My elation quickly diminished as I looked at my sad diaper bag knowing there would hardly be diapers in it, little lone a pen and paper. The whole success of nurturing this tiny encounter into a full fledged friendship would rest on my shoulders alone...and mainly my ability to not lose the tiny scrap of paper she had written her digits on.

On the walk home, I start imagining coffee dates and park pals. I imagine running into her at the grocery store and having a 15 minute conversation in the soup aisle.  My first friend in Floriday. Whoo hoo.

Two days later, Troy and I were at The Boutique, when I hear a familiar voice. It's my new friend. She is too far away for me to say hello without shouting. That's when I seize up. Suddenly I am 15 years old with no social skills. Why can't I just be cool and say hello? My mind starts racing. Should I ask her to do something now? No, not right now, but next week? Will she wonder why I don't have a shopping cart on Black Friday? Will she think I just troll the store because I have no friends.

One thing is for sure. I won't be able to tell her about this blog until after we've gone out for happy hour and she's said something completely embarrassing and stupid.